


The Chekov Massage

by RedCheshire



Series: Exploring Kirk's Frontiers [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, M/M, Massage, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 18:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCheshire/pseuds/RedCheshire
Summary: Kirk is feeling the stress of command.  Chekov's thorough massage skills turn out to be exactly what Kirk needs to relax.





	The Chekov Massage

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fictional story about characters from the new Star Trek films (copyrighted by Paramount Pictures and Bad Robot Productions) and does not intend to imply anything about the sexuality or actions of the characters depicted...or of the actors who play those roles.

***Captain's Log: Stardate 2260.35  
The ship is undergoing the last of the repairs and upgrades after last year's events of with the Vengeance. Next month, we should be ready for a shakedown cruise...first out to edge of the Kuiper Belt and back...and then the 3 light years out to Proxima Centauri and back. Looking forward to trying out some of the upgrades that Starfleet Command is installing...and everyone is eager to get out and do some exploring. Five years is going to be a long time, but I think we're going to have a great time. End Log.***

"And I'm ready to do some more exploring of Planet Dr. Marcus." James Kirk leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk. He'd been surprised when Carol had signed up for the five-year mission...but it'd turned out to be a pleasant surprise, with the visits to each other's quarters. Looking at the time on the computer screen, he realized that she was actually supposed to be by soon. Part of his mind registered that he should change clothes if he was expecting a visitor; glancing down at his cotton shorts and robe, he decided that he was dressed perfectly fine for the visit. Hell, the clothes wouldn't be on for long anyway.

The door chime snapped him out of his thoughts. Swinging his feet down, he rose from the chair and padded across the room and toward the door. Grinning broadly, he pressed the wall-mounted control padd; the doors opened, revealing his evening visitor. Kirk's smile froze in place,   
"Kiptain - good evening!" Pavel Chekov's ever-present smile beamed through the doorway as he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. The younger man was a constant ball of energy. Which was exactly what Kirk was afraid of at the moment. 

"Ensign. What's up?" Reaching up to scratch his head, he froze as Chekov bounded into his quarters, misreading the movement as a gesture to enter. Sighing, he triggered the wall console again, closing the doors and turning around. Seeing Chekov's eyes glance down and then back up, he remembered his state of dress. Coughing with a hint of embarassment (and hoping that Chekov would get the idea that he was decidedly off-duty), he pulled the robe closed, covering his bare torso and short shorts, and re-tied the belt around his waist. "Sorry - was winding down for the night."

"Hmm? Oh...yes! Sorry about the time, but I had a couple of ideas for the navigation system and wanted to run them by you before going any further today."  
"Going further...today? Tonight? Pavel - do you sleep?" Kirk chuckled - it was always endearing to see Pavel get flustered.   
"Um...yes kiptain. About five hours. Six if I'm going running the next morning. Which is about three times a week. Sometimes four, depending on..." Kirk waived a hand, cutting him off. He wasn't ready for a five to ten minute explanation on Chekov's sleeping habits. "I get the idea. Five hours. Sometimes, usually. Alright, what did you have in mind for the nav system?" He sighed, listening as Chekov began rattling off his ideas at the speed of light. Kirk's eyes widened as he struggled to keep up; not with the concepts, but with the blinding pace at which the man spoke, combined with his heavy accent. 

Just as he was about to cut the conversation, the computer did it for him with the door chime. "Hold that thought." Turning, he made his way back over to the door, opening it again to reveal the lovely face of Dr. Marcus. Lowering his voice to a whisper, Kirk tilted his head back, pointing out Chekov's presence. "Sorry - he wanted to discuss some work stuff." Carol smiled wickedly - she loved teasing James and relished each opportunity. Raising her hand, she waved over his shoulder. "Hi Pavel!" 

"Oh, hi Dr. Marcus! Sorry, if you need the kiptain, I can talk to him in the..."  
Kirk sucked in a breath, eager to be alone with Carol.  
"Oh, sweetie, no - I just wanted to run some ideas for the weapons system by him. Which can absolutely wait until tomorrow. I'll just drop these off..." She handed over a stack of PADDs to Kirk, surpressing a chuckle, "...for him to look over. I'll see if Uhura wants to grab a drink. You boys have fun." Her eyes twinkled, seeing the faux-pain in Kirk's own blue eyes. She really liked him, but wanted to maintain the upper-hand...otherwise he could get a little cocky.

The sound of the door sliding shut covered Kirk's small exasperated sigh. Faking a smile, he turned back around. "Okay, so the navigation system...?" Chekov began describing an idea for boosting the power of the thrusters while also improving their efficiency. Kirk grinned, amused by the younger man's energetic speech and rapid hand gestures. Crossing the room, he poured a glass of Saurian brandy; raising an eyebrow and an empty glass, he silently offered Pavel one as well. Clinking glasses with a toast to the ship, he settled into a chair and watched as the ensign paced the room, drawing the ship's systems in the air with one hand...and thankful that the sips of brandy created small pauses in Pavel's fast-paced speaking, so that he could take a moment to absorb the words. Finding his own glass empty, Kirk wondered whether or not to refill it. Instead, he decided to subtly hint that it was time to wrap up the conversation. Wincing, he reached up and rubbed his neck, pretending to be sore. It took a few moments, but Chekov finally noticed. 

"Kiptain...are you all right?" He looked at the captain, his blue-grey eyes full of concern.   
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little sore...it's been a long day."  
"Have you gone to the doctor for your neck?"  
"For a sore neck??" Kirk couldn't help but laugh a little, waving his hand. "If I went to Bones about that, he'd never let me hear the end of it."   
"If you want, I can do this."  
Kirk blinked, surprised. "Do what...?"  
"Massage. I took classes at the Academy."

Kirk continued blinking, his hand having stopped rubbing his neck. 'Damn, it is impossible to shake this kid,' he thought. Out loud, he asked Chekov, "You took massage classes...at the Academy? I didn't even know they offered those." If they had, he'd sure as hell have signed up, for the chance to rub down some beautiful bodies.   
"Oh yes...is part of athletics program. With all the running, the track coach recommended we take the massage class, so we could take care of our legs after sprints and marathons."  
"You took a class in massage. Stellar cartography, advanced warp theory, theoretical physics...and massage."  
"Yes, kiptain. If you want, I can help with your neck?"  
Shrugging, Kirk gave up. If he wasn't going to be able to get his own quarters to himself, then a neck rub wasn't a bad consolation prize. "Sure, why not."

He sat, waiting for the younger man to cross the space between them. Instead, Pavel was looking around the room, as if searching for something. "Yo moyo," he muttered. Raising his voice back to a normal level, he pointed at Kirk's couch. "Here, this will work."   
Kirk looked over at the couch - the spot where Chekov was pointing was where the couch made an L-shape and the seat jutted forward, creating an open chaise lounge seating part. "The couch? I can't just stay in my chair?"  
"Um... Neck is part of the spine. Usually soreness in neck also involves upper back."  
"Alright, you're the expert." Grinning with amusement, he rose and made his way towards the couch. As he leaned down, prepared to lie in it, Chekov cleared his throat.   
"Yes, Ensign?"  
"Um..." We're Chekov's cheeks flushing slightly pink? "Your robe..."  
Kirk looked down, expecting to see a tear or stain, but the material was fine. Looking back up, his confusion was written into his face and body language, hands facing up as if questioning. "What's wrong with my robe?"  
"Um..." He'd never heard the navigator stumble on his words like this. Hey we're usually coming out at a fast clip. "The massage...it, uh, it is more effective without sumzing in the way..."  
"Oh. That makes sense." Tugging on the robe's belt to undo it, he shrugged off the cloth and tossed it to the other end of the couch. Holding his arms out for a moment, he joked with Pavel, asking "Better?" before stretching himself out face-down on the lounge section of the couch.   
"Uh...yes. Better."

Chekov's hands met Kirk's shoulders and got to work, fingers and palms digging in and kneading the skin and muscles. He had to admit, the younger guy knew what he was doing - within minutes he could feel the stress melting out of his neck and upper back. He groaned slightly, "Damn, you weren't kidding...you're pretty good at this."  
"Well, with all the running, had to." Pavel's fingers began working the muscles on the other side of Kirk's spine.   
"So you learned how to take care of your leg muscles after runs?"  
"Mmmm, not exactly. Sometimes." Flat palms pressed into Kirk's rib cage, rubbing away the stress. "Usually, after runs or training, team would massage each other. But if I was just running on my own, yes, could work on myself."  
Hands wandered up and down his back, working away the stress of the day. "Team working together...that makes sense," Kirk mumbled as his mind began numbing from relaxation. 

Chekov's hands moved gracefully along Kirk's backside, journeying from neck to mid-back, finding the areas of tension and melting them away. The conversation lapsed, the only sounds coming from the contact of Chekov's hands and Kirk's groans of relief.   
"Computer...play personal song list 'Relakshun'"  
*Unable to locate that playlist*  
With a sigh, Chekov forced his mouth to produce the foreign sounds that the computer would better understand. "Play. Personal. Song. List. Ree-la-ksay-shun."  
*Playing song files*  
He nodded and smiled as the familiar sounds of Russian classical music filled the room. Not the stereotypical booming style, but a softer and sweeter series of tones that were relaxing. His hands moved further down, working on the muscles of Kirk's lower back. The broad, well-muscled backside flowed down to a valley where his spine met his hips...before sloping up into a plump, firm pair of buttocks. Chekov placed the heel of his palms at the base of that slope and pushed forward, digging up towards the bottom of Kirk's ribs. The muscles there were tightly wound from a long day of work...and as they loosened up, the sounds coming from the couch varied between grunts, groans...and even light moans. Chekov worked along the pair of larger back muscles that went down along the spine, thumbs pressing into the knots where they ended...about an inch below the waistline of Kirk's shorts, and then back up again. 

Kirk sighed, feeling the day's stress ebb away...and then felt nothing as Pavel's hands disappeared. Just as he was about to turn and see what was going on, he felt the hands return, this time on his left foot. Fingers dug into his sole, working the flesh, before wrapping around his entire foot and squeezing it. The massage continued, relaxing first his left foot and then the right one. Hands returned to his left leg, this time encircling his calves and working Chekov's well-trained magic touch. He had to admit, this was not how he had expected the evening to end, but it was definitely not a bad way to finish the day. As his right calf was massaged, he thought about a way to ask Pavel about future massages. Or maybe teaching Carol... 

Pavel's hands rose and fell again, this time taking hold of the back of Kirk's knee...and began pressing up, beginning to work on his large thigh muscles. Without even realizing it, Kirk moved his feet apart, giving Chekov room for his hands to work. Chekov glanced up at the motion and blinked, swallowing back a surprised sound. Kirk had forgotten how short his clothing was...and the motion had unknowingly also spread the light cotton material, opening up a gap between cloth and skin. The good sensation of the massage had its effect on his body in more than one way - his package had swelled up slightly. Pavel could easily see one of Kirk's balls and the head of his cock, plumped up from the skin-to-skin contact. It wasn't unusual ffor this to happen during a massage, but with it being his captain's bits on display, Chekov had to take a moment to mentally recover. 

"Something wrong?" Kirk had noticed the lack of movement from Chekov's hands.   
"Uh. No kiptain. Um, just figuring out how best to get the knots out of here." His fingers returned to their work, kneading the firm muscles of Kirk's upper legs. Going back and forth between the left and right, his hands slowly made their way north, approaching the spot where the two legs came together.   
The feeling of fingers on his inner thighs got Kirk's attention. Besides the stress working its way out, he became aware of his manhood reacting; he wasn't hard, but there was definitely a stirring in his loins. Just as it seemed like Chekov's hands were about to brush into his balls, the massage stopped. Again, after a short time, they returned to his feet, although this time accompanied with the sound of the ensign clearing his throat. Turning his head to look down towards his feet, he saw Chekov sitting there, waiting. "Something wrong?

"No kiptain, but the muscles on the back of your legs are done. Fleep over?"  
"Fleep...what?"  
Pavel paused, forcing his mouth to make English sounds. "Flip. Flip over? So can work on front of legs."  
"Umm...hang on."  
Pavel waited patiently, aware of the reason for Kirk's hesitation, but pretending to be naive. He'd found that was the best approach during massages with men, to deal with the occasional "extra" reaction.   
Kirk brought one elbow up, pressing his palm into the couch cushion as if he were going to do a push-up. Lifting his upper body, he twisted himself and lowered back down, settling onto the couch, face up. In his mind, he began working through prime numbers, willing his flesh to calm down, with some success. Once again, Chekov's hands began working on his feet, this time concentrating on the top and sides. Closing his eyes, Kirk relaxed, enjoying Chekov's expertise. 

Fingers worked in small circles along the skin, moving along the upper arch, away from toes and towards the ankles. After finishing both feet, Chekov wrapped his hands around Kirk's left ankle, kneading the muscles and tendons, resulting in a sigh from his captain. After finishing the other ankle, Chekov gripped the front of his shin and dug in, continuing the massage. His hands moved up and down the front of Kirk's lower leg, between the ankle and the knee. Glancing up from time to time, he observed the swelling in Kirk's package go up and down. The closer he got to Kirk's knee and upper leg, the more pronounced the bulge in the crotch became. As he made his way back towards the ankle, it subsided. Amused, he turned his focus back towards the massage as he moved to work on the other shin. 

Kirk's relaxation diminished when he felt fingers glide up over his knee, taking hold of his lower thigh muscles. "1, 3, 5, 7, 11..." He went back to work on listing prime numbers, without success. The anticipation of a nighttime romp with Carol and the feeling of hands on his upper legs had their effect, as blood began slowly filling his cock. Looking down, he saw that Pavel's eyes were focused on his own hands. Kirk could see the material of his shorts bouncing slightly with the throbbing of his growing manhood.   
"Uhh...." He tried to think of a way to end the massage, but his brain power wasn't 100% at the moment.   
Chekov looked up, his fingers still digging in and slowly working the muscles, concentrating on the couple of inches above the knee. "Yes sir?"  
"Maybe...um, a massage at another time? It's getting late?"  
"Oh, almost done. Probably five more meenuts."  
Kirk wasn't sure what his dick would look like after five more minutes of this. "Well...I, uh..." He wasn't sure how to address the issue. His face, turning a slight pink from embarrassment, nodded forward to indicate his growing problem.   
Pavel held a poker face, completely hiding amusement beneath a practiced professional expression. "Oh. This happens sometimes."

Kirk blinked, his embarrassment subsiding. "Really?"  
"Yes. Women...not as obvious. Men...sometimes is reaction happens." He lifted his hands from the right calf and lowered them onto the left knee, starting work on that leg.  
"That's...uh...good to know." Kirk relaxed, slightly, and rested his head back on the couch. He felt Chekov's hands on his knee, working the same muscle area on his left leg...and then move a little further north, kneading the dense muscles of the mid-thigh. 

Clearing his throat, Kirk lifted his upper body slightly and broke the silence again. "So you're used to...this?"  
Pavel looked up, making eye contact with the captain while still working his hands. "With massage? Very."  
Kirk couldn't help but chuckle, which reduced his tension a little. "No, this..." His eyes darted down to his crotch and back up. He watched as Pavel glanced up at the tented shorts, the skin of his face flushing pink. He looked back at the captain to respond before returning his attention to Kirk's legs. He moved back over to the right thigh, taking hold of it in the middle and moved his palms in small circles.   
"It happens sometimes, yes." He shrugged, in an attempt to pass off the situation as not being a big deal (although the size of the bulge in Kirk's shorts was definitely big).

"Ok, I feel better about that, I guess. And it doesn't bother you?"  
Chekov kept his gaze down, focused as he dug into the meat where flesh began to meet cotton cloth. "No, is not bother for me. Sometimes embarrassing for some guys who get massage." His palms were bumping into the material of the shorts, so he switched back to the left leg...which, unfortunately, was where the tenting action was. Kirk's cock was now a little more than half-hard, snaking down his shorts, making a rod shape down the cotton leg of the shorts, lifting the cotton up a couple of inches from his skin. There was small movement as it throbbed with his pulse. Pressing his hands to the warm skin, he continued working. 

Meanwhile, Kirk chuckled again in response to Chekov's last statement. "Uh, yeah, can see why there'd be some embarrassment. So the rest just relax and ignore it?"   
Chekov took a small moment to respond, looking for the right wording. "Yes. Some just ignore."  
"Cool," Kirk nodded. His breathing felt thicker as the ensign's hands made their way up and around his thigh. It took a second for him to notice the vagueness of Chekov's answer. "Wait...some?"  
The flushed skin of Pavel's face darkened slightly. "Some, yes."  
"And some are embarrassed?"  
"Yes."  
Kirk's curiosity was piqued. "So what about the rest?" He watched as Chekov definitely began blushing. The other man's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he put together a response. "Um...some...want more massage..."

His fingers were now where the cotton material *would* have been, if it were laying against Kirk's leg rather than being suspended a few inches in the air by his throbbing rod.   
Kirk was pretty sure he knew what Chekov was referring to, but the mischievous part of his personality wanted to hear a clearer response. "More massage...?"

Pavel's blush deepened. "Um, yes. Some ask for, how you say...happy ending?"  
"A happy ending?"  
Chekov finally looked up again. "Umm...happy ending is..." Unable to make himself describe it verbally, he lifted one hand in the air, making a fist which he pumped up and down a few times, before opening his hand up. Allowing it to hang for a moment, he dropped it back down and continued.   
Kirk leaned his head back and laughed, confusing Chekov. Looking forward again, he continued slightly laughing as he spoke. "Sorry. No, I...I know what a happy ending is. I was laughing at you making the gesture. Can see some guys asking for that. How do you respond to that?"  
Pavel's hand movements had diminished to small kneading and circling movements of his fingertips. If he continued the massage any further, his hands would be up Kirk's shorts. He kept his gaze down as he answered, not sure how the captain would respond. "Sometimes, yes."  
The laughter faded as Kirk became more serious; that wasn't the response he'd expected. "Wait. Sometimes, yes to happy ending?"  
He watched as Chekov looked up; the other man's eyes rested for a split second on Kirk's groin before locking onto his own. "Is just another type of massage."  
"And it doesn't bother you?" He saw the color of Chekov's face turn pink again.  
"No, does not bother me."  
One of Kirk's eyebrows rose, his only response. Well, not his only response - his cock very visibly jerked up and fell back down in its cotton trap.   
Pavel finished, "Actually, can be interesting. Is like snowflakes - no two are the same."  
Kirk laughed again, Pavel joining him this time. The small joke successfully broke the tension, allowing both men to feel at ease again. 

His hands still on Kirk's thigh, Pavel weighed his next words before speaking them aloud. While his mouth and eyes still showed some amusement at their shared laughter, there was a small teasing element to his expression as well. "Does kiptain...want more massage?"  
Kirk's smile faded halfway, his face becoming a little more serious as his eyebrow rose again. "More massage?"  
"Yes sir, more massage." He nudged his fingertips an inch further to make his point.   
Kirk weighed the idea for a second, wanting to avoid another conversation with the HR counselor. "Are you...okay with that idea?"  
Pavel's thumb ran softly over Kirk's thigh. "It would be good way to relieve more stress, no?"  
His grin widening a bit, Kirk winked at Pavel. "Well then, I'll trust the expert." He settled his head back down, closing his eyes, waiting to see how this would unfold. 

Chekov slowly ran his hand further up Kirk's leg, feeling the slight hair under his fingertips, the skin warm against his palm. The cotton shorts rode up slightly, the hem coming just millimeters way from the tip of the captain's cock. Reaching the groin, he flipped his hand over, grasping the rod in his hand. It was thick, throbbing, and radiating heat against his palm, relaying Kirk's horniness. Wrapping his fingers against the turgid flesh, Pavel pulled forward, back towards himself. He felt the thick veins run under his fingertips, enjoying the combination of warm, soft velvet flesh covering rockhard firmness. Reaching the end, his grip pushed forward again. This time it moved the cotton material with it, slowly revealing his captain's manhood. 

A good-sized cut head appeared, sitting like a cap at the end of the hard rod. As Pavel's hand continued, the hem of the shorts caught for a moment on the noticeable ridge running along the rim of the cock head, before pulling free and catching up with his palm. Some men had a thick head followed by an average pole...with Kirk, the shaft was nearly just as big around as the head. There was a gentle curve, to the captain's right, which Pavel found enjoyable; he began turning his wrist slightly as his hand kept moving north. The shorts pulled back further, exposing the tool they had been hiding moments before. A prominent vein ran down the length of Kirk's cock, which Pavel ran his thumb over, exploring. Finally, his hand bumped into short-cropped hair, its journey complete, as he gave an appreciative squeeze to the meat throbbing in his grasp. 

Pulling forward, Pavel gave the firm flesh a few gentle tugs, enjoying its heft, before letting go. Seven inches of meat swung up and away, landing against the captain's stomach with a smack. Circling his fingers around the base once more, he began slowly pumping up and down, beginning at a teasing pace. Glancing down, he could see one of he low-hanging balls showing itself, its partner still hiding inside the shorts. Snaking his other hand up, he lightly ran his finger around it, watching the orb pull up a little as a small moan came from above. Smirking slightly, Pavel began using both hands to manipulate Kirk's cock and balls, watching as the other man's hips shifted occasionally, trying to pump up into Pavel's fist or get more action on his nuts. 

A small pearl of liquid appeared; Pavel stroked his fist upward and squeezed lightly, bringing forth more of the fluid and watched as it rolled down Kirk's pole before spreading out along his fist. Sliding his thumb up, he ran it in small circles around the ridge of Kirk's cockhead and then over the tip, smearing the clear liquid, the darker-colored flesh shining. Kirk gave a long sigh, enjoying the sensations of Pavel's expert fingers. As one hand stroked up and down Kirk's shaft and the other hand played lightly along his nuts, more fluid began leaking, rolling down the hard member, allowing Pavel's hand to glide more easily. 

Pavel felt the throbbing in his hand and gulped lightly. If there was something he enjoyed more than feeling a cock in his hand, it was tasting one in his mouth. Granted, riding one was best of all, but sucking dick ranked pretty damn high as well. His mouth watered slightly as he watched Kirk's head shine with another drop of precum. Tentatively, he leaned forward. He knew what he wanted to do, but was unsure how the captain would react. Running his fist up, he played with the tip with his thumb. He pressed his tongue firmly against the root, where cock and balls met, and slowly began running his tongue up the length of Kirk's shaft. A soft sigh came from above, indicating the captain's pleasure. Slowly and firmly, Pavel's tongue moved again, this time south, until he was pressed against the fuzz on Kirk's ball sac. He repeated the motion, traveling north and south several times on the thick vein running along the underside of Kirk's rod, enjoying the sweet taste of flesh and precum. 

Somewhere, in the haze of enjoying the handjob, it began to dawn on Kirk that there was a new element to what was going on in his crotch. Opening his eyes, he looked down...and saw Pavel's eyes stare into his own as his face sank down, his tongue making its journey back down again. Blinking in astonishment, he had to clear his throat before being able to speak. "Mmm...ahem...Chekov...?" His voice trailed off, unsure how to finish the question. 

Pavel pulled back for a moment, unable to speak and lap up Kirk's length at the same time. "Yes kiptain... Not good? You don't like?" Having experience from the massages in the Academy, he knew that if there was a problem, it would be much more obvious at this point. With that in mind, he managed to keep the amusement out of his voice...still, it showed itself as the slightest hint of a purr, betraying how much he was enjoying himself. 

Kirk's mind worked to form an answer. The ship's mission was to explore strange new worlds and seek out new life forms...and he had definitely used his cock as a tool of exploration. He'd fucked his way across countless worlds, and aliens were not built the same. There had been the alien with two vaginas and four tits (Tenwin V), a pussy on the kneecap (Omicron III) or the back of the head (Hoteja VI). The being with both a cunt and a cock that he'd spent the entire night with, working over both organs, back on Chisia IV. The strangest (and oddly, most entertaining) had to have been back on Brarob VII, where the men had two dicks...one each where human nipples were located. He and McCoy had to ride the planetary leader's chest at the same time to close a trade deal - an event which most certainly had not gone into the mission log and that they'd rarely discussed afterward. And there'd been the times spent in jail back in Iowa...

So having a guy's lips wrapped around his member wasn't a new idea. What threw him off was that it was Chekov; he hadn't expected that the younger man swung that way. The ensign was somehow handsome and pretty at the same time, with his large blue-grey eyes and elf-like features. Kirk's mind was stuttering as a result of being distracted by what was happening in his crotch and wondering how far along the events of this evening might go. "Oh no, very good. Captain likes... a lot."

"Good," came the reply from below...followed by a swipe of the tongue from base to head.

"Do your massages usually end with this kind of treat?" Kirk felt his cocky swagger coming back, recovering from the surprise of Chekov's actions.

"Not always...depends." Another movement of the tongue up and down Kirk's length.

"Depends on what?" He stifled another moan as a result of Chekov's lips teasing his balls.

"If the guy is interested..." The tip of Chekov's tongue swirled around each orb in Kirk's sac. "If he's attractive..." His tongue firmly massaged its way up the shaft. "If he has nice tool..." Ever so lightly, he ran his tongue along the rim of Kirk's swollen cock head.

"Ahh. You think I'm attractive, huh?" Kirk's lips stretched into a grin, one eyebrow raised. 

"Da...yes. Kiptain is very handsome." He flicked his tongue along the slit of Kirk's cock, tasting the clear nectar and pulling a groan out of the other man.

"And you think I have a nice tool...?" Kirk's voice had become husky from both being horny and feeling more seductive.

"Da. Kiptain has very nice hui...cock." His tongue lapped along both head and shaft, enjoying the musky scent and flavor.

The word brought back a memory for Kirk, on his knees in a jail in Iowa, servicing a big Russian guy one night in their cell. There was a phrase that he remembered hearing several times. "Pavel..." The other man looked up. Kirk ran his hand down, gripping the base of his manhood and tapping it along the ensign's lips. "sosi...hui..."

Chekov's eyes lit up with amusement. "Yes kiptain." One more lash with his tongue...and then he brought his face down, pressing his lips against the end of Kirk's meat. Slowly, they parted and began descending down his length. He kept his eyes locked onto Kirk's own as his mouth progressed, until the shaft gave way to balls. Inhaling through his nose, Pavel pushed forward even further, shoving his nose against the groin, working his throat around the meat stick buried deep inside, listening to a growling moan from above. Pulling off, he released the suction of his mouth, leaving the skin of Kirk's cock glistening with spit. "Kiptain likes?" 

Kirk's chest heaved with the sudden intakes of breath that he was taking. Past that, his eyes were slightly glazed with lust. "The 'kiptain'...fucking loves it." Wrapping his fingers into the curls of Chekov's hair, he pulled down, impaling the other man's face onto his member. "Sosi hui, Pavel." Both men groaned; Pavel stopped the pretense of teasing and went to town, enjoying the taste and feel of Kirk's prick throbbing in his mouth, his head bobbing up and down between the other man's legs. Kirk kept using his hand to apply pressure to the back of Pavel's head, thrusting up to meet his face, trying to bury himself inside of it over and over. Up and down, Chekov's lips made their way along Kirk's seven inches, loving every bit of it as it slid along his tongue and down his throat...and back again.

Kirk leaned his head back with a moan, content to enjoy Pavel's mouth. Many moments later, he raised his head again, to get a look at the cute lips in action again. He noticed that Chekov's hand was out of view, down between his own legs. Slipping his leg off of the couch, Kirk extended it forward until he felt it bump into the other man's knee. Slowly, he slid it up, reaching his goal - Chekov's unzipped pants. Nudging the younger man's hand out of the way, he caressed the warm and rigid flesh with his foot, eliciting a muffled moan that he felt vibrate around the base of his cock. Moving his foot further, Kirk lifted the bottom of Pavel's shirt a couple of times and then returned to the turgid shaft, stroking it again. After repeating the motion with the shirt, Chekov got the hint and began peeling it off of his torso. Lifting it up to his neck, he gripped Kirk's cock and pulled off of it just long enough to remove his shirt before sliding the inches back down his throat. Kirk allowed his toes to wander over Pavel's abs and chest, exploring his body, returning time and time again to his crotch. 

Pavel's mouth was...amazing. He'd clearly leaned a number of tricks back in the Academy with his massages. However, Kirk had some other ideas in mind. Sliding his foot back down, he extended it between the other man's legs, wedging it firmly and pulling up. Continuing to apply pressure, he forced Chekov to rise up; his foot, went further back and then hooked up against the taut ass, causing the ensign to move forward until he was climbing onto the end of the couch and over Kirk's legs. Quickly, Kirk slid his foot forward again, back between Pavel's thighs, and pushed down against the fabric of his pants. Getting the silent hint more quickly this time, Chekov reached down and slid the black fabric down his legs, exposing all of his lean, tightly muscled body. Reaching down, he ran his hand over Chekov's knee, up his thigh and around his ass, enjoying the exploration of the warm, smooth skin. His hands continued up, tugging Pavel's torso forward and down, until they were face to face, the other man directly above him. His hand returning to the back of the other man's head, he pulled it down until their faces came together, their lips brushing against each other. 

Chekov took the invitation, pressing forward against Kirk, his tongue exploring the other's mouth. He became ravenous, greedily nibbling on Kirk's bottom lip and chin before sliding his tongue back in between the other's lips, his own hips grinding down against Kirk's groin, moaning at the feeling of the captain's hands exploring his body. 

A smirk stretched across Kirk's lips as he pulled them away. "Just uh...how far does a 'Chekov Massage' go?" he asked, winking. Responding without words, Chekov's arms flexed as he pushed his body back, bumping the globes of his ass against Kirk's firm pole. Swinging his hips up, the slick head slid down until it grazed his hole, causing both men to moan. Allowing it to drop further, towards his balls, Pavel stopped and reversed the motion, working the hard flesh back up between his buns. This time, instead of grazing, it nudged his entrance before moving on. "Is a...deep tissue massage..." the ensign replied. 

"Excellent," Kirk murmured in his ear before nibbling on it. With his right hand, he took hold of his cock and smacked it against Chekov's ass. Dripping with precum, he was able to easily slide it back down to the hole, pushing against it, teasing. Pavel whimpered and pushed backward, the pressure and slickness causing the tip of Kirk's rod to ease inside. "You want that?"

Pavel was grinding his hips back and forth, working the first half inch or so in and out of his entrance. "Yes kiptain...please." His eyes flashed with hunger. He needed to be stretched, to be fucked. 

Happy to fulfill that need, Kirk reached left with his spare hand, opening the drawer of the nearby table and rummaging around blindly. His fingers closed around a familiar plastic tube...pulling it out, he closed the drawer and moved his hand back, behind Chekov. The next sound was the click of a cap opening...and then a pleased sigh from Pavel's lips as the cold lube poured down his crack. Kirk ran his dick up and down, spreading the fluid over both men's flesh. 

Suddenly, Pavel pushed his torso upright, into a sitting position. With both hands gripping Kirk's chest, he pushed his body down. Kirk's head popped inside the rear entrance, followed by an inch of shaft. And then another inch. His head tilted back, Chekov moaned loudly as his hips sank down, impaling himself on the long thick pole, feeling it throb inside. He didn't stop until his butt settled against Kirk's thighs...and even then, he ground down, working in another half inch. Swinging his face back down, he locked eyes with Kirk, chest heaving and the muscles of his firm body flexing. Every inch of him was displaying pleasure at being filled. The shy and awkward demeanor was replaced with that of a man who was assertive and hungry. "Yes kiptain...I vant that."

Kirk was reduced to a satisfied groan as the muscles of Pavel's legs stretched, pulling his hips back up. His tight ass released the inches of pole, until only the head was still embedded. Both men cried out as the eager bottom relaxed...and quickly sank back down to the root. Chekov maintained his more-dominant attitude, staring into Kirk's eyes with longing and lust as he lifted his hips up and down, riding the captain's rod. The muscles of his tunnel felt like they were as lean and firm as the rest of his body, as they squeezed and massaged Kirk from base to tip. 

A light sweat glistened the skin of the two men; Pavel's from his physical riding movements, and Kirk from his body's reactions. He wanted so badly to ram his tool in and out of Pavel's ass, but the ensign was doing a great job on his own and looked like he was enjoying himself far too much. The younger man was beginning to lose his grip of command on the situation though - his brow was breaking into a sweat, his eyes now blinking and losing focus, a lost and hazy expression filling them instead of the sharp piercing gaze of before. His upper body began tilting back, his fingers slowly trailing down from Kirk's chest, one hand settling flat onto his abs, the other sliding to the side and holding his waist. English and Russian words muttered from his lips, although it was difficult to determine exactly what they were. He lost any appearance of control as his eyes closed and his head rolled back. All of his body went into the work of riding Kirk's cock, faster and harder than before. The muttering became louder, still a mix of the Russian that Kirk didn't understand...but the English was clear. "Fuck," "yes," and "more" rang through the cabin...which thankfully was sound-proof. 

Kirk watched, in a trance, as the other man hungrily rode his dick. That ass had started tight...and remained so this entire time. Unbelievably, it began to feel even tighter. The taut muscles of Pavel's body flexed and bunched as his entire being compressed around Kirk's fuck stick. His mouth opened wide, silently mouthing words before bursting out with a loud exclamation. "Yo moyo!!" Pavel's ass clenched around Kirk's rod as his body came to a stop, his own cock jerking wildly on its own as he came. The first shot landed in the middle of Kirk's chest. The rest splattered across his stomach, erupting from Pavel's nuts in a series of five or six shots. Throbbing, Pavel's meat continued to slowly spurt more cum as his erection subsided, bouncing up and down but descending towards Kirk's body. 

Pavel's body similarly went limp, folding down onto Kirk, his still-hot seed pressed between their torsos. His face nestled into Kirk's neck, licking and kissing gently. "Kiptain?" The word was soft and almost whispered, a sudden change from just moments ago. 

Kirk stroked the ensign's curly hair, his own voice low in its reply. "Yes, Pavel?"

"Fuck me..."

'Damn...he's an insatiable little thing,' Kirk thought, grinning. His hand slid from Pavel's head to his shoulder, while the other hand pressed against the small of the man's back, holding him in place as he thrust his hips up, slamming the rest of his manhood back inside. Pavel purred against his neck. "Like that?" He thrust inside again. "Yesss...." Kirk pulled back until just the tip was still inside Pavel's sphincter, feeling it quiver. "You want more?" He flexed his cock, teasingly. "Yes kiptain, please." With a grunt, Kirk pushed up and back inside as far as he could, hearing a muffled moan against his shoulder. He continued hammering Pavel's ass from below, his arms pinning Pavel's body against his own, their torsos slick with sweat and cum. His own words were sexual teases, asking if the other man wanted more, if he was enjoying it, asking how much he liked feeling the hard cock pounding in and out of his ass....and the responses were moans of yes, more, please, and begging not to stop. The pace of Kirk's hips increased, until his manhood was a blur, hammering Chekov's hole. Suddenly, the tempo changed....no longer a swift sliding in and out, but slower and harder thrusts. 

"Pavel...I'm about...to..." The response was silent at first, as Chekov slid his tongue up Kirk's neck, before latching his mouth to Kirk's earlobe, nibbling it. "Don't stop kiptain...give me..."  
His words trailed off as he felt Kirk slam in one more time, burying himself deep inside as his cock swelled even thicker. Hot thick seed fired from Kirk's rod, painting Chekov's insides. Both men groaned with pleasure....Kirk's mingled with the feeling of release, Pavel's one of satisfaction. Over and over, his tool continued shooting it's pent-up load of cum, until his entire body went limp with exhaustion. 

His awareness returning to him, Kirk slid his hand up from Pavel's back, cradling his head again and bringing the other man's face up to his own. Their long, slow kiss expressed their spent desire and the pleasure they'd brought each other. Breaking away, Pavel looked at his commanding officer, the playful tone returning to his voice. "Kiptain liked his massage?"

Raising his lower hand, Kirk gave Pavel's ass a firm swat. "Yes. The captain loved his massage."  
"Running a starship...is stressful, no?"  
"Oh, very."  
"So...kiptain could probably use another massage sometime?"  
"Captain could definitely use another 'Chekov Massage'. How's tomorrow work?"  
Pavel's grey-blue eyes blinked with surprise, not expecting it to be so soon. His voice gave away his happy eagerness though. "Tomorrow is good."  
"Great. Looking forward to it." He pulled Pavel back down. They could shower later, but for now he wanted to feel those lips against his again, their bodies firmly pressed together, exploring one another.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the work of the author and should not be copied or posted elsewhere in any way without the permission of the author.  
> Comments, feedback, and ideas can be emailed to: red.cheshire@yahoo.com


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